


I Can Face Another Day In Slipper Satin Lingerie

by BelladonnaInBloom



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F, Five Times, Hackle Summer Trope Challenge, Pining, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:01:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24710485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BelladonnaInBloom/pseuds/BelladonnaInBloom
Summary: Hecate has a morning routine that has been practiced and perfected for years.  When Ada shows up unexpectedly one morning, Hecate is left with a vision that just won’t stop interrupting her.
Relationships: Ada Cackle/Hecate Hardbroom
Comments: 13
Kudos: 48
Collections: The Hackle Summer Trope Challenge





	I Can Face Another Day In Slipper Satin Lingerie

**Author's Note:**

> Title from La Cage Aux Folles - "A Little More Mascara" for any fellow theatre gays lurking out there.

Day One

Hecate awoke from an unpleasant dream, leaving a residual sense of emptiness heavy inside of her. The dawn stabbed at her through the window pane, staring her down unflinchingly as it so often did. 

This was hardly the first time that Hecate had awoken with a brooding sense of melancholy curled up beside her. But it was no matter. Over the years, she had found her ways of coping, the little habits, the small rituals that once performed would allow her to put herself back into place again.

By now, the routine had become honed, perfected and nearly unchanged from day to day. Every morning, she positioned herself before the mirror and took her time twisting her hair into the most complex of knots, darkening her lash line to a forbidding black, painting her lips a brighter shade of red and finally, stepping into a black satin slip, trimmed with lace - a secret, personal thrill beneath her high-collared dress. 

This morning’s activities had progressed much the same as any other and Hecate was already feeling much more herself and ready to embark upon the day. She stood before the mirror, cloaking herself in her darkest of silks when she heard a familiar rap on the door, disturbing her methodical concentration. 

“Hecate,” Ada’s voice called out with friendly morning cheer. “Are you in there?”

Hecate started and instinctively reached out for her robe but before she was able to slip it over her shoulders, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She suddenly wondered what it might be like to bid Ada to enter wearing only what she had on this minute. 

An image flashed through her mind of Ada’s eyes passing over her rarely revealed body. Ada’s piercing gaze traversing the line of the lace hem that only barely graced the tops of her pale thighs, the neckline that draped over the curve of her breasts, leaving a tantalizing inch or two otherwise exposed, the outline of nipples clearly visible beneath the clinging fabric. 

In life, she was sure that Ada would say something, do something, but in her mind, Ada only stared at her and smiled with a palpable sense of longing. Hecate clenched her thighs at the thought, breath quickening as she savoured the concept for the most fleeting of moments. 

She slipped her robe on and fastened it firmly at her waist. “Just a moment, Ada,” she called out. A sweet, regretful ache left twinging between her thighs. She regarded herself once more in the mirror, barely an inch of skin visible beneath her ever so proper dressing gown and turned towards the door. 

Day Two

The next morning was not met with an unexpected knock at the door, or a familiar voice sweetly calling her name. But as Hecate slipped on her lingerie once again, the same image of Ada’s hungry glance sweeping over her body flooded her mind without prelude. It was as if a sense memory of silk had called it forward from the subconscious depths of her mind.

Today, however, the image didn’t stop with a glance. As Hecate, namesake of the goddess of crossroads, knew well, thresholds can be dangerous things. For one can always keep from crossing, but once crossed, no matter how hesitantly, it is ever so hard to compel oneself to turn back.

In her mind’s eye, Ada approached her with slow and deliberate steps. Her eyes flashing back to the length of the hem and its precarious placement. Hecate closed her eyes and she could feel Ada’s hands pulling the straps down her shoulders and the dark silk giving up ground. The satin sheen slipping over her breasts, catching momentarily and giving way, pooling at her waist. Ada’s eyes meeting her own, a devilish smirk visible on her lips. Ada’s fingers exploring the newly unsheathed skin as she traced the outline of Hecate’s ribs with protective care.

Hecate cleared her throat. She wasn’t sure how long she had been sitting before her mirror, but it had clearly been quite long enough. 

Day Three

Today, Hecate did not have to be caught off guard by any invading thoughts. Today she beckoned them in. Called to them before their time even. Her mind was far down that now familiar path before she had even finished her makeup. 

It occurred to Hecate that if she wears this seemingly uncharacteristic lingerie beneath her dress each day, what might Ada be concealing underneath her own? For a moment, she considered that Ada might share a passion for dark silk and the aesthetic of black lace on blushing skin. But no, black was an unlikely choice. If Ada wore anything of the kind, it was most likely to be peony pink with one of those useless little bows nestled over her sternum where her breasts bent to meet. 

Hecate wanted to think of such a garment, such a color with disapproval but her body betrayed her as her chest warmed at the thought. 

In this misty morning fantasy, it occurred to Hecate that if Ada could pull her free from her encasement, why couldn’t she do the same to Ada? Why could she not unhook every clasp that kept Ada hidden from her? 

She imagined Ada feeling the same thrill at the touch of hands caressing curves through rose colored fabric. Pink on Ada’s warm, peachy skin, beneath her blonde hair. Ada, the colors of the sunrise, beneath her fingers, beneath her lips. 

It took far too much restraint to pull herself out of her mind and back to her day, back to her schedule and her tasks, and her meeting with Ada where she would be donning a skirt nearly trailing the floor and a neckline well above her collarbone.

Day Four

Hecate slid the black silk over her body yet again. When first conceived, the soft shroud had given her a thrill, yet in recent years, it had become a commonplace occurrence, hardly thought of in the regimented chaos of the morning.

These past few days, however, what was once a habit having almost lost its meaning had suddenly taken on far more than it had ever had a claim to before. It seemed as if these imaginings had become as much a part of her morning routine as any of its other elements, and certainly they brought her more comfort than any flick of eyeliner had ever done.

Hecate thought of Ada, of everything that had grown between them over the years of their acquaintance. It had all been so simple. It was simple to meet her, it was simple to know her, even to allow herself to be known. 

This too, Hecate thought, could be simple. Nothing more so than the uncomplicated tangibility of the sliding of silk between fingers. 

But like all sweetnesses, these thoughts too were fragile. A noise in the hall, a ray of light catching the mirror and they would burn up like dew on a blade of grass and Hecate would be compelled to go on with her day with only the memory of sugar on her tongue.

Day Five

Hecate sat in the teacher’s lounge in the evening as usual. Miss Drill reading a magazine in a corner near the window, Ada dozing by the fire. Ada’s cat, Pendle, prowled into the room, announcing themself with a loud meowl, jumping up into Ada’s lap. “Oh, good evening, dear,” Ada cooed to the cat, softly scratching them between the ears. “You’re quite right, it is far past my bedtime,” she said. Ada scooped Pendle into her arms and rose from her chair with a small sleepy stretch. Hecate stole a glance at this endearing sight and smiled to herself.

It could be simple, she thought. 

“Now, don’t stay up too late, ladies. It is still a school night after all,” Ada said with a teacherly waggle of her finger. “Goodnight,” she said as she left the room. 

“Goodnight, Miss Cackle,” Miss Drill said, looking up momentarily from her magazine. 

“Goodnight, Ada,” Hecate said softly, unsure if anyone but herself could hear the tone in her voice. 

Not two minutes passed before Hecate had herself risen from her armchair. “I suppose I should be turning in myself. Goodnight, Dimity,” Hecate said and with a nod, she materialized into her own room. 

Without hesitation, she began to disassemble herself for the evening. First came the dark hair, cascading down her back as she shook it free from its constraining bun. She then slid her watch chain from her neck and laid it on her dresser and took off her dress, hanging it in her wardrobe for another day. 

Just then, she heard the door creak open behind her. She flung herself around with a start just in time to see Ada entering the room without so much as a knock. 

“Oh!” Ada said with surprise as she laid eyes upon Hecate standing before her in a relative state of undress. 

“Ada,” Hecate said, her tone confused and surprised as she watched her friend close the door to the hallway hastily behind her to ensure no one else could walk in on this scene.

“Hecate, I’m terribly sorry to barge in on you like this. I came to return your book, and you were in the lounge not a moment ago,” Ada said trying to explain, clearly embarrassed. 

“I left a few moments after you,” Hecate said. “You couldn’t have known.” Hecate’s nerves compelled her to close her arms over her chest, to reach for her robe, perhaps even conjure her dress back over her body but she stopped herself from acting on any of these impulses. 

“Still, Hecate, I have no right to walk into your room this way. I am truly sorry,” Ada said, struggling to avert her eyes from the novel sight before her, this vision in obsidian.

“Don’t be,” Hecate said, a small reassuring smile on her lips. She stood resiliently still before Ada’s gaze, her chest rising and falling dramatically with her breath as she tried to recover from the surprise of the moment.

Ada met Hecate’s eyes directly for the first time and realized that while she had been trying to avert her own gaze to allow Hecate some privacy, Hecate was not making the slightest effort towards the same end.

“Wouldn’t you like to put something on?” Ada said, uncomfortably, thoroughly unable to keep her eyes on Hecate’s face while her chest rose and fell with each heavy breath. 

Hecate paused, regaining her sense of calm. She pretended to consider for a moment and with a tilt of her eyebrows said, “Not particularly.” 

Ada’s breath caught in her throat. Hecate’s glance was unflinchingly direct as always, but now there was something almost pleading in its intensity as she awaited a reaction, awaited an answer to a question not quite posed.

Ada cleared her throat and moistened her lips, unsure of her ability to speak. “Well then, in that case. Perhaps you’d rather… I take something off?” Ada propositioned with a hesitant smile.

Hecate’s eyes lit up like coals and her lips curled into a sort of smile. “Perhaps,” Hecate said coyly, her tone smooth and serious but there was a twinkle of something like playfulness in her eyes. “Although, time is limited. After all, as you said yourself, it is a school night.”

“Best not to waste a moment, then,” Ada said, the smile on her lips growing wider. Ada walked further into the room, approaching Hecate slowly, cautious but not nervous as she felt the silk slide beneath her finger tips.


End file.
